Sleepless in Shepherdstown

Here I am, officially the day before the big trip south. Wide awake, unable to change the fact that I'm wide awake, opening up the age-old monster of blogging, with full intents to keep it open this time around, like always. Well, like always in that I'm wide awake, not like always in that it's the day before the big trip south, but...you know.

Today ranks high on one of my days in Shepherdstown these past few years, because it was so supremely Shepherdstown and a wonderful start of the curtain call of my four years here. I'm not quite sure of anyplace in the world where it is completely acceptable to frequent the same bakery in a little over an hour without kindly bakery attendants raising an eyebrow. I was sunburnt today while sipping a fruit smoothie containing approximately my monthly intake of fruit and watched bad On Demand films and left for the bar late simply because 'Casino Royale' was on the television. But, those last few things could be just because of my friends.

The truth is, I'm awake right now because with each passing day here the road trip south loses appeal. Not because I dread the drive or the interesting things I know John and I will encounter along the way, but because with each mile that passes and turn on the GPS, I am going to be pulled further and further from this place that I have called home. With many of my friends, college certainly did become home. I remember talking late at a Starbucks one night with some friends about accidentally calling dorms 'home' in front of their parents. Mine were the only set of parents that didn't mind my calling Shepherdstown 'home,' because I think they came to accept and enjoy the fact that I recognized this place as a place I belong. Everyone wants their own Shepherdstown, I'm convinced. Even those plagued by the worst cases of wanderlust want that coffee shop where the question is not the type of beverage, but the size of the cup and iced or hot. Everyone wants little shops that they don't really buy things in and a place to glare at tourists that pause in front of your church to take photos when you're leaving worship on Sunday. It's like a big bear hug. A big, fuzzy, warm bear hug.

More than that, in my four years here the people that have found me and called themselves my friends have been worth all the while. Characters that even the greatest authors could not generate, they have made all the difference in this place transitioning from familiar to home. (And if they stumble upon here, I thank them for their sacrifices, their advice and their love that I could never even begin to match anywhere else) These people have made this entire chapter even more interesting than it could have been.

I suppose Texas can't be all bad. People rarely go running and screaming from the state. I suppose year-round warmth and cowboy pop culture is something everyone should experience once, especially seasoned culture journalists. I have a family there, a fat cat, an empty canvas of a room to decorate and a high definition TV...so...with this to come home to and a GPS for the car, I guess I'll be alright.

Besides, Shepherdstown and The Woodlands both have a bubble effect on their residents.

Stay Tuned.